


haunting ;;'. ou taxidermy

by pluvieux



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 11:07:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17466404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pluvieux/pseuds/pluvieux
Summary: i rushed this, too willing to get some of these words out





	haunting ;;'. ou taxidermy

everything that went unspoken  
ruins of the arles ampitheatre  
everything that was written on my behalf establish entry to your noor, another missed new moon another missed opportunity + from your pain grows sycamores + the devilman lends me his ear. uncertainty looms large where the lack of words have a story of their own + what coils, rotates, escaped my arteries + crashed over the mirror 

i write for your entirety + i think that this physical ache comes from the cold case murder from you slipping in through evry crack there is. miles johnston feels like a hand wrapping around my neck feels like the cool canyon air ;;:>; rose lotus renaissance beneath my feet  
i enter the sanctuary, isthmus liberty + the pursuit. chained, what bellows pools into immortality. the medusas are vital. juliet puts the blade down + keeps the plants shrouded in sunlight. amulets + flames aglow skeletons buried under snapdragons what is with the mental turmoil? what is with this malpractice why for how the banging on the walls calling my name with yours in my dreams. if someone went deep inside of me they would find you like how the birds survived the dinosaurs' extinctions, sifting through piano keys + a dead cat that desolate emptiness was what made me. i glued your shadow onto the pages + it feels like evry single forest fire is your doing. 

(+ unrelated but i think you would let him (as in, my blood, not the moon) be on the same grounds as me now, with a new taxidermy kit + familiar psychosis he finds roadkill, dead rats on the gross tiles 's bathroom, he looks at dearest + told me it was going to be nothing but a lesson + that's okay, but it's something you would have said + i didn't want to hear it. ) 

your astral form uses words like pirouette. velvet, isolation in a corridor i've seen so many times. languished + impossible drowsiness, the slow thump of wings against air + everything about you that is so conventionally terrifying is oblique.

how purposeful it all felt. strange how perplexing life can become, downspiral into disorder, hunting knife, bemused, yet again i dream of my hand over black railings of yours escorted onto mine, it is january + it is the age of aquarius + with defined continuum i am embracing you, whisper apologies till ******* fractures like i.

left existing aimlessly, your corpse sits up from the sink-like table + the despondent scream strikes a new chord from within me. my grandmother taught me how to sew + we communicate in tongues, i starved my words for him breathing mercy + you are still, embalmed, inside, 

scale you + bury you further in my secret garden stay awake while you sleep i seek i know. this earth that was yours, sincerely, 

demise

over moss by the river, the man himself is architecture. discarded theorem to lie in golden fields alone 

beloved i slept soundly after three no there are no trees with your particularity here a dim lampshade + handfuls of thoughtless moments i'm reaching just grasping desperately day after day for life comes alive in passion. i feel my blanket being pulled off of me i open my blinds at 11am + it is still dark outside. unalloyed, mist over water, to knock on your door then leave without a glimpse. i sleep in your chilled bed with uninterpreted dreams 

moss over dead bark, actually. dead fish. to turn solitude into a jar of teeth. to not act on premonitions. you continue ;., you exist in multiple illusions, we exist as a being on deviating timelines + sometimes i pull my cheek down softly to get a better look at my eye + within my chest there's possession. as fog rolls up on the anniversary, we sit on the roof to watch the sunrise, puking into buckets + you hold my weather in the pocket of your hoodie, beauty dries with cills paint ,., you dont ask where we are heading.

three days i stay inside vacant of our dedication, i sit with tragedy of liberation + mother's milk oh the walls are blurry, you + your overcast sky. 

it is impossible, your absence, the lance of. you open every wound yet 

the table is already set. worshipping ceremony + your pristine little princess fingers  
more alive than dead, now

 

i wish i kept your bones


End file.
